


Hive of Bees

by thegirlwthekittentattoo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Dom Liam Payne, Dom Louis Tomlinson, Dom Niall Horan, M/M, Multi, Sub Harry Styles, Sub Zayn Malik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 15:36:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20950778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwthekittentattoo/pseuds/thegirlwthekittentattoo
Summary: Harry’s disappeared, and Zayn’s the only one who has crucial information. Oh, and Nick. But Nick has specifically instructed Zayn not to tell anyone about Harry’s ... predicament.This is a missing scene from “It’s all the Little Things” by SoManyDirections, blended with the scene at the end of chapter one, when Harry drops and Zayn has to help him.





	Hive of Bees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoManyDirections](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyDirections/gifts).
  * Inspired by [It's all the Little Things](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20256013) by [SoManyDirections](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyDirections/pseuds/SoManyDirections). 

> again, super impossible without SoManyDirections and the “It’s all the Little Things” verse. Y’all, I don’t even know what my life has become, but I am LIVING.
> 
> This chapter borrows from chapter 1 of “It’s all the Little Things.” You’ll recognize the dialogue, and I didn’t write that particular section’s dialogue, just Zayn’s internal freak out, as you do.

“What happened last night?” there’s something behind Liam’s words that makes Zayn sit up a little straighter and take out the one earbud he’d had in, setting his sketchbook aside.

“What d’you mean? You got drunk and left me to get babysat by Harry. Louis took you home. You were snoring when I got back.” He goes to replace the earbud, but Liam grabs his wrist. “Christ, Liam,  _ what _ ?”

“Harry’s gone.”

“—gone?” Zayn repeats. It takes a moment to understand the words in that context, and his next, immediate reaction is guilt – what had he done the night before to make Harry leave? Had he said something? Done something? He’d been pretty far gone, but he didn’t  _ think _ he’d ever make a pass at Harry – no he  _ know _ he’d never make a pass at Harry. He – there’s Liam, but maybe Harry thought he’d done something, or meant something and Harry, in his infinite Harry-ness had decided that the best solution was to –

“Zayn.” Liam’s voice is sharp, yanking him out of his thoughts.

“I dunno, Liam, I – I thought he was fine when we got back. What d’you  _ mean _ he’s  _ gone _ ?”

“What on earth else could I possibly mean, Zayn? I mean he’s  _ gone _ , not in his room, and not answering texts and—” there’s a sharpness in Liam’s voice that makes Zayn squirm, turning back to his thoughts. What had he done? Surely something. There was no other possible solution. Desperately, he wracks his thoughts and then, because that’s proving fruitless, snatches his cell phone to check. Maybe he’d sent a message? That seems unlikely, but – “Zayn?”

His head snaps up. “I don’t know what I did,” he says, his voice desperate. If he knew what he’d done, he could be punished and they could bring Harry back and it’d be fine again, but he was coming up empty handed and—

“What  _ you _ did?” Liam repeats, confused, and then – “no, no, Z, that’s – no one thinks you’ve done a thing, he just – he’s vanished.” Liam crouches down in front of Zayn. Zayn’s thoughts are still spinning wildly out of control and Liam takes both of his wrists in his hands gently. “Zayn?”

“We need to find him.” Zayn works  _ hard _ to keep his voice controlled. “I – um, I’ll go to – the –“

“We will,” there’s a gentle sternness in Liam’s voice now that isn’t lost on Zayn. It settles his thoughts long enough for him to focus on Liam’s face. “We will. Let’s just… take a minute. Talk me through it.”

“I – I must’ve done something,” he tells Liam carefully, and god, but he hates this. Hates having to tell Liam every little thought. Still, he knows the rules, and he clears his throat. “Harry… wouldn’t have left, if I hadn’t – if I wasn’t – bad.” It’s hard to get that one word out around his tears, and he takes a deep breath, looking away from Liam. Here he is, making this about him, when he should be helping coordinate search and rescue, not having a mini-breakdown that Liam’s having to deal with, and isn’t that just like him, just like him to make this about himself.

“You weren’t bad,” Liam says, his voice impossibly gentle, thumbs stroking the insides of Zayn’s wrists. “Haven’t done a thing in the world wrong, alright? Haz would have told me, yeah? You trust Harry. I trust Harry. You haven’t done anything wrong, Zayn. Nobody’s upset with you, not me, and not Harry, alright?”

The physical contact is enough to ground him, settle the way his joints feel tight, makes it a little easier to breathe.

“Yeah—yeah, alright. Alright.” He clears his throat and nods. “Alright. Let’s – we should look for him.”

He’s refocused and Liam stays crouched in front of him for another beat, before squeezing his writs one more time and standing straight. “I’m going to go see if the lads’ve heard anything. You stay here for a second, yeah? Just stay grounded a minute. I’ll be back and we’ll – figure out what to do, alright?”

Zayn nods, working a ring around his thumb.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes.” He kisses Zayn’s forehead and then leaves the room. Zayn reaches for his phone to try and call Harry, but it rings before he has a chance, Nick’s name flashing on the screen. Zayn frowns and answers. “Nick?”

“Zayn, listen, mate, I – I fucked up, alright?”

Nick tumbles through the explanation and Zayn can hear the panic in his voice, can feel it buzz through the phone line, settling like a hive of bees just under his ribcage. It makes sense, what Nick’s telling him. He never really saw Harry as a dom the way he saw the others, but he assumed it was just a personality quirk on one or both of their respective behalfs. Unlike everything else in his life, Zayn didn’t spend too much time thinking about  _ why _ he saw Harry differently, just that he  _ did _ , but now it made sense, it made so much sense: Harry wasn’t a dom at all, which would be why Zayn didn’t see him that way.

He promises to help (though he’s not sure how) and talks Nick out of telling Liam, Louis, Niall, or Paul. This feels like something Harry should tell them. Zayn respects other people’s secrets, doesn’t want to do to Harry what was done to him, doesn’t want to out someone as a sub before they’re ready, and Harry is  _ clearly _ not ready. Still, if what Nick says is true, and Zayn has no doubt that it is, then Harry needs to be found sooner rather than later.

Nick ends the call just as Zayn hears the click in the lock of Liam returning and Zayn hastily tries to wipe his face clean of any incriminating feelings, withdrawing into what Niall has affectionately termed “Fort Emotional Constipation.” Harry better love him forever after this – Liam  _ cannot _ know about the Very Important Secret, or he’ll march directly out of the hotel, regardless of what Paul says, and turn Manchester upside down looking for Harry. Paul would probably do something like taze Liam, and that would just piss Liam off and Zayn has enough problems without a pissed off and tazed Liam on his hands.

“Feeling better?” Liam’s voice still has that special edge he uses when he’s talking to Zayn, and Zayn nods, trying to keep the panic out of his expression. Fort Emotional Constipation. He can do this. He did this for  _ years _ before Liam. He  _ still _ does it, despite Liam’s insistent attempts to scale the walls. Zayn is the  _ king _ of Fort Emotional Constipation.

Liam eyes him a second, and then either buys it or is too distracted by Harry gone missing to probe any further, and throws himself down on the couch next to Zayn. “What the fuck’s he playing at, huh?” he asks, muttering mostly to himself. “Paul says no looking for him, can’t risk a ‘security breach.’”

Zayn nods, and he nearly says something, but then he takes a deep breath instead.

“Alright?” Liam asks and Zayn nods, because he doesn’t trust his voice. Let Liam think he’s just tired – that’s usually the case anyway. “You know you’ve not done anything wrong?”

Zayn nods, trying to keep his face blank. Last night, he didn’t do anything wrong. Today, though … Harry better appreciate the respect Zayn has for his privacy.

“Alright. We’re going to play a bit of Fifa in Niall’s room, try to –”

Zayn interrupts him with an exaggerated yawn, and Liam nods.

“Why don’t you take a nap then?” He leans in to press a kiss to Zayn’s forehead. “I’ll be in Niall’s if you need anything, yeah?”

He nods again, not trusting himself to speak. Good thing he’s got the brooding misterioso down to a science.

Zayn’s broken so many rules he’s not going to able to sit for three weeks straight by the time he tells Liam everything. He’s sequestered himself in Harry’s room to wait for him, begging off of the noise and chaos that was the three doms plotting to rescue Harry or murder Harry or whatever they were onto now by saying he had a headache. Liam had wanted to lay down with him, but Zayn had promised he was fine, just needed to sleep, and he was perfectly capable of doing that alone.

Fuck, he was going to be in so much trouble when they got all this sorted out.

The click of the card in the lock makes Zayn jump nearly out of his skin, but he’s never been happier to see Harry than in the moment he walks through the door. He grabs Harry by the shoulder, pulling him into a hug. “ _ Fuck _ , you’re back.” He doesn’t seem to be harmed in any obvious way, which Zayn is grateful for. Maybe that means this was all just a big misunderstanding. Still … “You’re such an idiot. Such a fucking idiot.”

Harry’s always liked hugs, but he seems to be weirdly into this one. It still doesn’t dawn on Zayn, what’s happening, and he’s been pacing the walls of Fort Emotional Constipation for so long that he kind of starts to ramble before he realizes that Harry probably still thinks Zayn thinks he’s a Dom.

“Nick told me,” Zayn says by way of clarification, cupping the back of Harry’s head, fingers threading through his curls. Fuck, no wonder Louis liked to play with Harry’s hair. The words have an immediate effect on Harry, something Zayn can feel. His sub-sense maybe? Maybe he just knows what it’s like to confess someone else’s secret to them, knows the cold that settles into your belly when someone tells you they already know what you’ve tried so hard to keep secret. 

“Nick – he – he’s dramatic.” Harry pulls back from Zayn and Zayn lets him, hands going to his shoulders, reaching up to cup his face. “I don’t – there’s not –”

“Save it Harry.” Zayn does his best Liam-impersonation, infused with just enough of his own surly attitude to make his words crisp. “He told me everything. He was in a fucking state when he called, said he couldn’t get ahold of you and that he shouldn’t have made that threat over text,” which Zayn agrees, wholeheartedly, knowing just how gut-wrenching that kind of thing could feel. There really ought to be a sub-screening service, where subs could pre-read texts Doms wanted to send to their sub-friends, make sure no one was causing any unnecessary drops. Speaking of… “that he knew you’d panic. He told me so that someone would know Harry… he did you a  _ favor _ .” And he did. Zayn didn’t exactly agree with the course of Nick’s actions – who makes  _ threats _ to a  _ sub _ over  _ text _ , when there’s no tone or context or facial expressions to help interpret? especially a threat to  _ out _ someone, and yeah, they’re  _ definitely _ going to have to have a chat with Nick about appropriate behavior when it comes to Harry—but he understood and appreciated his discretion in fixing his mistake.

“Just you?” Harry’s twisting his fingers in his shirt, his eyes glassy and unfocused. Something is off. Drunk? No. Maybe?

Zayn frowns, looking Harry up and down as he answers the question. “Yeah. I guess he didn’t want to betray your confidence and tell a Dom until he had to.” This feels achingly familiar to Zayn, but he doesn’t want to cause any undue panic. “Everyone’s been worried about you though – Paul wouldn’t let us go looking, said it’d cause a scene if we did.” And it would have – Zayn entertains a brief flash of Liam, Louis, and Niall turning Manchester upside down. “Then we saw the pictures on twitter that you were out and he sent security to find you.” He finally dedicates his full attention to taking stock of Harry – disheveled, sweaty, his breathing …. realization drops like a stone into his belly. Liam is going to kill  _ both _ of them, and then Nick. “You’re  _ dropping _ . Fuck, Haz, you’re dropping –“

If he was panicked before, it’s nothing like he feels now, but he’s got to figure this out, got to get Harry to a dom  _ now _ . There are three (possibly four) of them the next room over, and Harry’s muttering something about pills, but Zayn ignores him, until Harry shows him the nearly empty packet. It takes him a minute to connect Harry’s words and the empty packet of pills, but then he gets it — Harry’s been self-medicating. The bee hive under his ribs has erupted, and he crumples the packet, shoving it into his pocket. Harry needs a Dom, and he needs a Dom  _ yesterday _ . 

“Well, it’s evidently not working.” His voice is tight with panic, his mind a mantra of  _ shit shit shit  _ over and over again until he finally manages to snap out of it. He’s got to get Harry to a dom. He owes him at least that much.

Harry makes an awful noise, and Zayn feels his stomach drop. Oh, they’re so  _ fucked _ .

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he says, because it feels appropriate and he’s trying to stave off the panic he can feel clawing at the edge of his mind. “fuck. Harry, c’mon babe. We have to get someone to help you.”

He can do this. He knows how to do this. King of Fort Emotional Constipation – he’s the perfect sub to do this. He’s not a Dom, but Zayn can mom-friend override into oblivion. He takes Harry’s hand in his own, and it’s like the energy rolls off of Harry and onto Zayn, or maybe vice versa, maybe they’re feeding each other’s bees at this point, but Harry –

fuck, Zayn can’t even bear to look at him, just dragging Harry along behind him. Harry makes some kind of tiny, heart breaking noise, and Zayn spins to look at him. He looks bad. He looks  _ really _ bad, and Zayn knows, he knows Harry doesn’t want anyone to know, but it’s not like he has a  _ choice _ here. He might be able to shove everything down and lock it up to get Harry to a Dom, but he  _ isn’t  _ a Dom and he doesn’t want to betray Harry’s confidence, but this is their only option. 

“I’m sorry…” and he is, he’s  _ so  _ fucking sorry, this isn’t how Harry deserves to have everyone find out, but they  _ don’t have a choice.  _ “I know, I know you don’t want them to know.” And he does. He knows that feeling, that blind panic and fear of rejection and… oh, Zayn knows it. And he feels awful for what he’s about to do, but… “But I can’t help you Harry, I’m not a Dom.” Wouldn’t Liam be proud of him? Delegating jobs? Recognizing that he can’t do Liam’s job? Fuck. He squeezes Harry’s wrist and then, at a loss for how to make it better says, “It’s going to be okay, we’re getting you some help and you’re going to be okay.”

He half drags half frog-marches Harry down the remainder of the corridor, kicking Louis’ door open. Louis is right there, and Zayn shoves Harry bodily, forcing him into the Dom’s arms, knowing that Louis’ touch would do much more for Harry than he’d ever be able to do. Louis is saying something snarky about cats and –

Zayn shoots him a look like  _ what the fuck is wrong with you _ , but then he realizes –

“Louis.”

Louis doesn’t listen to him – why would he? he thinks Zayn’s upset about being called a cat, but Zayn’s barely keeping himself together, about to vibrate right out of his skin with trying to keep both him and Harry together, and keep Harry’s secret, and get Harry help, and  _ fuck _ but he wants to punch Nick square in the nose right now, wishes he were right in front of him so he could break his fucking face – but Louis hasn’t caught on yet, the idiot, shaking Harry like a rag doll, and fuck, that’s not – “Louis shut the fuck up.” He might catch hell for that later. That was definitely a breach of his “don’t let your temper get the best of you” clause of the rules, but Harry needs help and Louis  _ isn’t getting it _ . “He’s dropping.”

It feels good to finally tell someone else, to have it out there, to come clean, and, as expected, he feels the guilt settle into his bones, weighing him down. Harry didn’t want anyone to know, and now Zayn’s gone and told Louis, but what else was he supposed to do?

“What are you – what?”

God, he’s thick. Zayn takes a deep breath.

“He’s dropping Louis.” Like it isn’t obvious – Harry, the poor thing, is barely conscious, just kind of limp in Louis’ arms, like – like –

“Fuck – I don’t understand –  _ what _ ?”

Zayn fixes Louis with his steeliest stare, eyes cold. “Harry. Is. Dropping. Can you pull your head out of your arse for ten seconds and  _ do _ something?”

This isn’t Zayn’s job. Zayn isn’t a dom, he can’t  _ fix _ this, and he shouldn’t have to tell the fucking doms how to do  _ their _ job, but Louis just wants to talk about fucking  _ cats _ and Harry’s  _ actively dropping  _ in front of him and Louis is just refusing to get it and  _ finally _ he gets it, taking stock of Harry, and finally he takes action. He says something to Harry and then, without looking away from their bandmate, says, “Zayn, tell Paul he’s back and bring the others here, yeah?”

But he can’t, he  _ can’t _ because that’s not – that wasn’t part of the agreement, he wasn’t supposed to tell  _ anyone _ , but now he’s gone and told Louis, and he didn’t have a choice there, he had to help Harry, but – “Louis he doesn’t want—“

“It’s a bit late for that now, what he wants has gotten him in this state.” Zayn feels a little spark of indignation at Louis’ tone –  _ he _ was the one who pointed out that Harry was dropping, of course he  _ knows _ the state Harry is in, but the command in Louis’ tone is clear and Zayn turns on his heel and leaves them to it, feeling a little drunk off of the rush of emotions, a little hazy with guilt.

Paul, Niall, and Liam are all in Niall’s room. Zayn is relieved to find that Paul has not tazed Liam, only threatened to, and the second Zayn walks into the room, Liam is on him, like he and Zayn are magnets, like they only need be in close proximity to each other to automatically attach. Liam’s face is a knot of concern when he looks at Zayn, cupping his elbows, and Zayn nearly cries at the relief Liam’s touch provides. Stupid bees.

“Harry’s back,” he starts, and he wants to say he’s fine, but that wouldn’t be true, and he isn’t supposed to lie to Liam, or to Niall or Paul, isn’t supposed to lie to anyone, and  _ Harry’s fine _ would be an outright lie. “He – he’s – Louis is with him he’s –”

He can’t bring himself to do it, to betray him like that. Niall, Liam, and Paul all three erupt into speech and Zayn’s had about  _ enough _ stimulation for the day, enough of expectations and trying to be something he’s not, and all he wants to do is confess to Liam, and make Liam correct him, just clean him out, but he  _ can’t _ , he’s got to make sure Harry gets taken care of.

“He dropped,” he says finally. “I – I couldn’t – I couldn’t stop it, I couldn’t keep it from happening, he just – Nick said – and he –”

It’s hard to make sense. Liam’s hands are still on his elbows, and when Zayn looks up into his face, desperate for help, his eyebrows are knit together, confused and concerned.

“Harry’s a sub, not a dom, like he said,” Zayn says finally, Liam’s face enough to ground him to get that out. “He – took a bunch of pills? Those fancy ones, the ones that’re supposed to help with drops. He took them. They didn’t help. I took him to Louis.”

There. That ought to get enough communicated that they’ll stop looking at him like he’s grown three heads, but it doesn’t. Still, Niall and Paul are rushing out of the room, leaving Liam and Zayn alone.

The door’s barely closed behind Niall and Paul and Zayn’s melting into tears, which is rare. Sometimes he sheds a tear or two, but he almost never full-on cries like this, and has only twice done so without some kind of buildup, three times now. 

It takes Liam off guard – Zayn can tell, but now that it’s started he can’t help it.

“I lied,” he chokes out. “Liam, I lied, I lied, I shouldn’t have, but Harry – I didn’t want –  _ fuck _ , I didn’t want to lie, but Nick asked – Nick  _ asked _ he  _ said _ Harry didn’t want anyone to know and  _ fuck, fuck _ –”

“Hey, take it easy,” Liam says finally, sliding his hands down to squeeze Zayn’s wrists. “We’ll get it sorted out, we always do. Just stop and breathe a moment, yeah? Breathe, Zayn, that’s it. That’s a good lad. Come on, love, deep breaths.”

Zayn obeys, taking slow, deep breaths until Liam slides his hands down to squeeze Zayn’s. “Good,” he says gently. “Good job. Feel better?”

Zayn nods slowly, licking his lips, and Liam brushes his thumbs under Zayn’s eyes, brushing the residual tears away.

“That’s it,” Liam says gently. “Good. We’re going to handle this, yeah? We’ll get you fixed up. But let’s go check on Haz, okay?” And Zayn nods, because they absolutely should, because –

“He was in a state, Liam.” He’s not sure if Liam can hear the fear in his voice. “It was bad.”

“You did good, Zayn,” Liam says, taking Zayn’s hand and linking their fingers together. “You got him help. You did  _ good _ .”

Zayn shivers a little and lets Liam lead him back to the room, where Louis is running his fingers through the nearly-unconscious Harry’s hair. Niall has perched on the arm of the couch and is rubbing Harry’s legs, watching Paul call off the chase.

Harry looks to be alright, or at least looks to be better than he was when Zayn left him with Louis, and Zayn feels the hive of bees that have lived under his ribcage since Nick called him finally start to settle. He squeezes Liam’s hand, and Liam squeezes back, turning to press a firm kiss to his forehead. Zayn closes his eyes and is suddenly tired in a way that he’s been holding off all day and half the night, letting himself sag into Liam a little.

Liam notices (of course he does) and he glances at Niall and Louis, taking care of Harry, and Zayn can  _ tell _ he wants to be in the thick of things, and there’s another swell of guilt at that. He swallows, hard. “M’tired,” he mumbles into Liam’s shoulder and Liam nods. 

“Alright. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” And Zayn nods, letting Liam lead him out of the room and back to theirs.

Once he’s tucked comfortably in among the pillows, Liam rubs his back, settling on the side of the bed.

Zayn’s exhausted but still  _ unsettled _ \- uneasy. He turns his face towards Liam. 

“M’sorry,” he says quietly. “Didn’t wanna lie.”

“It’s okay.” Liam’s voice matches his touch - strong and sure and impossibly gentle. “I understand.”

Zayn nods. “Nick… called me. Said...he’d fucked up.” Liam’s touch feels so good. Liam snorts in disbelief and Zayn forces his eyes open briefly to look at him before letting them slip closed again. “Said Haz was a sub, not a Dom. Said he found out a few weeks ago, after the drive. Remember that?” He pauses to yawn, his jaw cracking. Fuck, he’s tired. “Nick said he’d told Harry…. said he had t’find a Dom, one local. Or not — not local, but … one of you. Y’know.” Zayn licks his lips and huffs out a sigh. “Nick said he was Harry’s guardian, but when he found out Harry ‘n’me were out by ourselves he… texted Harry. Said he had to pick you, or Louis, or Niall, or Paul. Said something about a threat.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from Liam and Zayn’s eyes flutter open again. He curls one hand around Liam’s knee, but continues.

“He said Harry didn’t want.. anyone to be weird about it. Didn’t want to cause a fuss.” Zayn could relate. How’d any of them ever buy that Harry was a dom?

Zayn yawns again and settles more comfortably into the bed. “After Nick called, I wanted to tell you,” he says. “I wanted — Liam, I didn’t mean to keep it from you. Or I did, but I didn’t  _ want _ to, I just —“

Liam rubs the back of his neck, working his fingers against the tight muscles, and Zayn hums softly. “Shh, s’alright, love. We’ll talk about it after you sleep awhile, yeah? I still love you, you’ve not done anything we can’t return from.”

That’s reassuring. Still, he’s got to finish telling Liam about all of it. 

“Harry said — he told me—“ Zayn squirms a little, digging out the empty packet of pills he’d shoved in his pocket when Harry had given it to him. “He was taking these, to help. Didn’t work, clearly.”

Liam takes the packet from Zayn, and Zayn finally feels like he’s done everything he could have. “I’m sorry, Liam. Should’ve told you.”

“Don’t worry about that right now.” Liam’s hand is stroking through his hair, helping him down off the ledge. “We’ll get it all sorted, yeah?” He ducks to press a kiss to Zayn’s temple and Zayn hums contentedly.

“That’s it,” Liam says softly, smoothing his hand down Zayn’s back again. “Off you go now, Z, you’re alright.”

And he is, for all that things still feel a little off-kilter. Things are still okay enough for him to doze off, Liam’s touch and reassurances enough to quiet his mind to sleep. He trusts Liam to set him straight again, but for now, he’ll sleep, deep and dreamless, not even stirring when Liam presses a kiss to his temple, his nose, and goes back to Louis’, closing the door quietly behind him. 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think! I’m a slut for validation.


End file.
